


Family Visits

by FriendOfTheFugitive



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Arguing, Confessions, Dinner, Family, Family Drama, Family Issues, Fluff and Angst, Headcanon, Heart-to-Heart, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mild Smut, Skyhold, Wedding Fluff, what could possibly go wrong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:19:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5148326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendOfTheFugitive/pseuds/FriendOfTheFugitive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ferron Lavellan’s three brothers decide to pay a visit to Skyhold on the basis of having an alliance between the Dalish clans and the Inquisition. They expect to see the same Ferron that left almost a year ago, but what they get is entirely unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Surprise!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I love feedback! Any and all kudos, comments, or reviews are appreciated! NOTE: This family is completely headcanon, the game is so vague about it so I invented one of my own for Ferron. The picture below is Ferron and how I see his brothers in game, of course, their hair styles and vallaslin are different from what I described, but the game has limited options for such things. Thanks!

Ferron was sandwiched firmly between the wall and Dorian. His hands were pushed above his head, held in place by his wrists. The elf smiled against Dorian's lips as a small chuckle bubbled in his throat. They were in Dorian's little study place at the rotunda, not exactly a private place, but that's what made it exciting. This wasn't the first time they had fooled around up here, but the last time it was dark and most everyone was sleeping, even Solas had retired for the night.

Dorian's free hand trailed up Ferron's thigh, dipping in between his legs to rub his growing erection through the soft cotton of his pajamas. Ferron pushed into the caress, holding back a moan. It was too early to be discovered. His cheeks flushed with heat, leaving a red tint behind as a haze began to settle in his mind. Ferron was completely ready to be at Dorian's mercy once more.

"There you are, baby brother!" a familiar voice exclaimed from behind Dorian. Ferron's eyes widened in horror at the intruder, and not for the obvious reasons. He squirmed against Dorian, wiggling out of his grasp before pushing his body away from his. The mage didn't fight him, being just as shocked as he was. Dorian didn't have siblings, but he knew Ferron did.

The red tint on his cheeks deepened as his skin grew hot. He was embarrassed, praying silently to any god who would listen that his brother didn't see what had transpired between Dorian and him. "Irras, I- I didn't expect to-" he glanced at Dorian nervously, "to see you here - and oh look at that the other two are here as well!" He laughed awkwardly as his other two siblings flanked the eldest, "why is that, I wonder?" He raised an eyebrow, losing any and all confidence he once possessed.

Irras was built, for an elf, and he was 34 years old. He was slightly taller than Ferron with dark blue eyes and jet black hair that was tied back in a tight pony tail. Wisps of hair that were too short to pull back hung over the sides of his face. He shared Ferron's longer face shape, and freckles dotted his face. His nose was slightly longer, however, and his ears stuck out further than his brother's. His vallaslin was three thin lines that started just above his lips and dragged down to meet together on his neck. His voice was booming, lower than Ferron's by far, "Is that the kind of welcome I get?" He laughed loudly, "I came to see you, of course! We all did! Well, that and your ambassador suggested an alliance that could benefit both neighboring clans and the Inquisition. I couldn't pass up the chance to finally see you in action!"

The second oldest brother, age 32, Revix, had lean muscle and wasn't very bulky. He was as tall as Ferron with deep red hair that was short and messy. He had emerald eyes and a thinner face shape. His vallaslin equated of three evenly spaced dots over his right eyebrow, and below his eye were three lines that lined up vertically with the dots. A deep scar slashed horizontally through them, starting at his cheek bone and ending on the bridge of his nose. He glanced down at a somewhat amusing and distracting sight that was in the front of Ferron's pants. A light smile pulled on the Rogue's lips as his gaze rested back on Ferron's face.

"You want a moment to take care of that?" The third youngest brother, at age 29, Wris, blatantly teased Ferron. Wris was lithe, his long black hair was shaved on the side but neat as it cascaded to the middle of his upper back. Ferron was somewhat delicate looking, but Wris was definitely the "pretty boy". He had high cheekbones and features that almost descended the gender line. His vallaslin was done in white ink, but the patterns covered most of his face. He had perfect lips, a small nose, and a mix of green-blue eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest as a devious smile coated his lips.

Ferron's eyes widened as he glanced down at the bulge in the front of his pants. He glanced at Dorian helplessly before closing in on himself. He lowered his head, gluing his eyes to the floor, before quickly brushing past them and almost running down the stairs. Dorian was in tow, calling his name. When Ferron knew his brothers were out of sight, he lifted his head and sprinted to his quarters, ignoring Solas and every Nobel that wanted his attention. He slipped into his room, almost slamming the door in Dorian's face. Once he was actually in his room, he collapsed on his bed with a heavy sigh.

"Amatus-!" Dorian skipped steps as he ascended into Ferron's room. Once his feet hit the carpet, he slowed his pace, knowing that he was partially at fault for his love's embarrassment. He caused the view, and it was his idea to make out in a public place. "Ferron...it wasn't _that_ noticeable, my love, I promise...are you alright? Were you expecting them?" He spoke gently as he crossed the room and took his place on the mattress, next to Ferron.

Ferron groaned in annoyance before huffing into the mattress. "I never expected them to come here! Josephine didn't say anything...what kind of sick joke-" Ferron turned his head away from the mattress in case Dorian couldn't hear him, "They didn't know I liked men..."

"Well, I think you more than 'like' men." Dorian joked gently, only to be snapped at by Ferron.

"That's not the point!" He saw the slight surprise on Dorian's face and he sighed. Getting angry at Dorian would solve absolutely nothing. He spoke with a calmer tone, but his anxiety was seeping through the edges, "I've told you little of my family, and I did so for a reason. I was never the favorite child, I mean, my mother loved all of us equally, but whenever I accidentally used magic...you could see the disappointment in her eyes. She argued with the Keeper for months, trying to convince her to allow me to stay. We already had a First - and a Second - , having me just raised the threat of mass possession or something.

"When they mentioned the Conclave, I volunteered. It was a chance for me to prove myself as an asset, and they hoped that one of the Mages would maybe take me in and mentor me or something. My brother's made it clear that I wasn't coming back, even if they never outwardly said so." He closed his eyes tightly, his breathing hitched as if he was about to cry.

Dorian smoothed over Ferron's scalp, running his blunt nails over the skin. His voice was soothing, tender, understanding, "I'm sorry Amatus, what they did was horrible. Today is a new day, however. With me and the rest of the Inquisition at your back, you're unstoppable. The first smart comment and I'll send them through a rift." A wide smile crossed his lips as his eyes met Ferron's.

Ferron sighed once again, controlling himself and calming down his once flared emotions. "It's one dinner, how bad could it be?" The minute the words left his lips, Ferron immediately regretted it. With his luck, Skyhold would be blown from the mountain side before he had a smooth dinner with his brothers. He sat up, sucking in a deep breath, preparing himself to face his siblings. After a few moments of preparing, he groaned deeply and flopped back onto the bed, losing all motivation to go back out there. He gripped the sheets and rolled himself into a burrito, groaning all the while.

_To be continued..._

_ _


	2. It Was Going So Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! More coming soon! <3

The idea of meeting the Inquisitor's family was something every one of Ferron's companions seemed to find intriguing, even Vivienne came down to meet them. Josephine informed Ferron, after Dorian convinced him to get out of bed and face his fears that they were staying for only a week. The only time Ferron was required to interact with them was at tonight's dinner, just as Ferron suspected. Irras was in charge of the Clan's military alliances. He could provide allies for the Inquisition, but the other clans were still hesitant about working with a human dominated organization.

This was business, not pleasure, even if his brothers were excited to see him. Josephine stressed the importance of a good impression to all the companions who would be joining them at the dinner. Everything was set up in the main hall; a nice banquet was spread across the table. Ferron was hiding in the rotunda by himself, listening to the chatter through the door.

"Revix looks nothing like the Inquisitor." Cullen muttered to Varric as he squinted at the three brothers.

"It's the hair, Curly. They've got the same nose," Varric responded before tapping his finger against his lips, as if trying to really concentrate on the brother's shared features.

"Mhmm, I love red-heads. I'll stay for that," Bull hummed before giving out the observations he had made in their short interactions; "Irras and Ferron are the least closest. You can tell by that demeaning glare and the way the boss closes in on himself underneath the weight of it. Something big is keeping them separate. Revix, however, is the closest, or maybe the most tolerant, to Ferron. He's a quiet one, not the broody type. He's definitely skilled as an assassin. You can tell by the way he stands, he rests on the balls of his feet, a perfect stance for those who need to quickly and quietly move across a battlefield."

"You missed one," Vivienne chimed next to Bull.

"Oh right, the lanky one - what was his name - oh Wris, he is a follower. He doesn't know how to feel about the Inquisitor, but for now he does what Irras does. He's confident, overly so. He makes the most fun of Ferron, but the Inquisitor could easily kick his ass in a fight. Ferron is uncoordinated, but he isn't weak."

"Floppy Ferron," Sera giggled wildly before she left Bull's side and moved across the floor to get a better look.

“There is pain.” Cole added his own thoughts about the family.

"Where is the Inquisitor? Everything is ready, and he can't afford to lose this alliance." Josephine whispered rather loudly to Cullen. She was panicking, everything needed to be perfect.

"Dorian is looking for him now," Leliana replied, "I believe he is checking the gardens currently."

Ferron was still nestled close to the door, eavesdropping on his own "party". "I am rather curious about your siblings, _da'len_. I've met many Dalish, but none have been like you. I hope to get the same result from them." Solas spoke softly as he appeared behind Ferron. He was in formal attire, well, the formal attire they would have worn an Age ago.

Ferron jumped at the sudden intrusion, "I - Solas!" He recomposed himself quickly, rubbing the back of his neck gently, "I'm afraid you will be disappointed. My brothers are pretty far away from my _charming_ personality."

Solas chuckled gently, “Well Inquisitor, we shouldn’t keep them waiting.” He coaxed lightly as he reached for the handle on the door, slipping past Ferron and entering the main hall.

It was too late to flee; Josie had caught sight of him. “There you are! Everything is ready, we must start now.” She placed her hand on his back and pushed him through the door, “remember to smile, keep your feet off the chair in front of you, and if a fork falls under the table – do not yell in Orlesian and try to dive after it before Sera can steal it. Oh, and no magic at the table. I know you like your water freezing cold, but we don’t need another incident of frostbite. Maker knows how long Varric groused about that.” She was whispering frantically, trying to fit in every little thing. She dropped him off smack in the middle of his companions and his siblings.

“That was one time-!” he tried to protest, but when he realized all eyes were on him, he froze. He glanced around the room- no Dorian. Ferron saw a reassuring nod come from Solas, so he took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts. “Thank you for joining us at Skyhold, Irras. I apologize for my tardiness, another matter required my attention. I look forward to discussing an alliance with you while we eat.”

Josephine wanted to jump for joy. Dorian had been teaching him the act of addressing crowds, just as he promised. This night was already looking up.

The crowd moved to seat themselves. Josephine managed to coax Sera out of the hall; she would not be joining them this evening. At the head of the table near the Judgment Seat was Ferron. On his left was Irras, and on his right was an empty seat for Dorian, whom was late. Next to Dorian, and going down the table, sat Revix, Cullen, Bull, Krem, Blackwall, and Josephine. Next to Irras were Wris, Leliana, Varric, Cole, and Solas, with Cassandra at the end. The servants began to set up appetizers as the group engaged themselves in idle conversation.  

The conversations halted when the side door leading to the garden burst open. The noise echoed in the hall. “I apologize for being late. I was out fetching the-,” his eyes met Ferron’s, “ah, it seems he wasn’t lost after all.”

Ferron went to stand, but he bumped his knee on the table, causing the plates to clatter. Josephine glared at him, forcing him to hold in an elven curse. Wris snorted a laugh as he bowed his head, trying to keep it under control. “There is a seat-,”

“Don’t strain yourself on my account, Ama-Inquisitor.” Dorian had a frustrated bite in his voice, but he took his seat next to Ferron nonetheless. He was comfortable with political affairs, smiling politely and knowing exactly what to say. His hand slid onto Ferron’s knee, signaling to him that there were no hard feelings.

Irras was eyeing Dorian, trying to figure him out. Ferron saw this and decided to introduce them properly, “Irras, this is Dorian Pavus – My _significant other_.” He cringed at the term. It was too formal, and did nothing to describe their relationship properly.

“Do you come from Antiva – or perhaps Rivain?” Irras questioned his eyebrow raising. His eyes dashed to the amulet that hung around his neck. It was not hard to miss the serpent on the front that symbolized Tevinter.

Dorian laughed lightly, “No, I hail from Minrathos, in Tevinter.”

 

_To be continued..._


	3. Grudges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I will be posting more, and I promise something big is happening in the next addition!! Thanks for reading, as always! <3

"Tevinter," Irras repeated, his gaze hardening and his shoulders tightening. His voice was low, only loud enough for Ferron, Dorian and his three brothers to hear.

"Yes, is there a problem?" Dorian could tell something was wrong, his eyebrow rose questioningly. He glanced at Ferron, who was silently pleading with his brother. Dorian's hand slid from Ferron's knee, unsure what it meant to them.

Irras' glare moved to Ferron. The elf cringed underneath it, recoiling and trying to make himself smaller than he was. "You knew about _this_?" he accused without question.

"Y- yes, Irras - it's not -" Ferron stammered, panic rising in his system. His sibling's eyes were glued to him. The only pair he cared about was Dorian's, which was burning into his cheek. A red tint rose on his neck to his cheeks.

Irras scoffed, catching Cullen's attention, whom was next to Revix. "Don't you remember how father died?" His tone was almost mocking, and the inflections pulled Leliana's attention from Bull.

Next to Varric, Cole spoke up, tuning into the conversation without actually listening. The shift in emotions pulled him in, particularly focused on Ferron's emotions, "Never knew him. Father. The name has no meaning. He wasn't mine. Slavers from the Imperium. Stole him on his way home - to see me born - found no value in him. They beat him, broke him, left him for dead. We did not hear word until he was already dead outside of Kirkwall. Injuries too grave for healers. Revix says the eldest grew cold." Wris stared at him, horrified by his ability to recall the events so perfectly.

Ferron peeled his eyes from Cole and let them drop back to his plate, "Yes, I- I remember, but-,"

"You are _consorting_  with the very kind that brutally murdered your father, and so many of our people!" There was a hard edge in his voice, his eyes were like daggers. The whole table was now aware of the conflict.

"Irras-," Revix warned in a low voice next to Dorian, but he was quickly silenced when Irras raised his palm towards him.

"I'm hardly responsible for that-!" Dorian tried to reason with Irras. It was not the first time he had faced such an issue, but this was his lover's family. Ferron was already closed in on himself, submitting to his brother's words. Dorian never wanted his status to affect anyone but him, especially when it came to Ferron.

Cassandra stood rapidly at the end of the table. The sound of her chair grinding against the stone grabbed the attention of those around her. She looked angry, more so than usual. Ferron was a good friend of hers. She was not going to allow this tormenting to continue any longer.

Ferron lifted his eyes only slightly. He was pleading with her, begging her not to get involved. It stopped her long enough for Solas to place his hand on her shoulder. "Let him handle this, Seeker. It's not your place to get involved." He spoke softly. Cassandra growled lowly before slowly descending back into her seat.

Irras continued, despite the stirrings at the end of the table, "What do you _intend_ to do with _my_  brother? Is he a _slave_ to you, nothing but an _object_ of your pleasure-?"

" _You've overstepped, Irras-!_ " Revix snarled.

Irras cut him off, leaning forward, accusations rolling off his tongue with a sharp sting of poison enforcing every word, "Would you _pawn_  him off to the highest bidder _when_ you become bored?!" Irras snapped back, his eyes narrowing. He was challenging Dorian, and he was doing so out of a misguided grudge. It had nothing to do with Ferron's well being. Irras hated Tevinters for what their kind did to his father, and he wanted Dorian to pay the price.

Anger was boiling in Ferron's gut, prickling just below his skin. His eyes lifted slowly from his plate as Irras dug into Dorian. He examined those around him, measuring their reactions. Josephine looked panicked and horrified. Cassandra, Bull, Krem, and Revix scowled deeply at Irras. Krem's knuckles were white from gripping onto his fork. Bull had already bent the thin medal in his fist.

The rest seemed to shift awkwardly, halting their breathing and holding whatever emotions they felt in check. This was not their fight, no matter how badly they would want it to be. Solas seemed aggravatingly calm about the whole situation. He looked over his companions with little concern. When his eyes met with Ferron's, his gaze was nothing but encouraging. Wris, on the other hand, looked as though he would burst from laughter at any second. His face was beet red and his hand was covering his mouth.

The most heartbreaking sight was Dorian. His shoulders were tight, his eyes glossed over as if he was blinking away the clear liquid that threatened to well over. Irras' words sliced their way into his heart. Even the thought of seeing Ferron in that light was gut-wrenching. He swallowed hard, trying to keep everything in check. Dorian refused to bow to such accusations, even if they were harrowing.

Ferron stood abruptly, cutting off his brother and claiming the table’s attention. “That’s _enough_ , Irras. You are in _my_ hall, speaking to those under _my_ command. I will not allow this disrespectful bullying to continue; especially when it is against the _man I love_. Alliance or not, if you cannot control yourself, I ask you retire for the night and to be gone by daybreak.” His voice held authority, one not used by Ferron very often – if at all. He slowly sank back in his seat, not losing the strong posture he held or removing his eyes from Irras.

Irras looked angry and then shocked. He was stunned into silence, taking a few moments after Ferron spoke to collect himself. He dropped his gaze, “I apologize, Inquisitor, my anger was misguided.” It was the first time he had acknowledged Ferron’s title.

Dorian’s hand rested upon Ferron’s, which was trembling under the table.

 

_To be continued..._


	4. Moving Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I added some screen shots in the first chapter of what I thought they would look like, for those of you who have already read this far before I posted them. <3

The cold wind brushed through Ferron's short hair, causing chills to dance up his spine. He was sitting on top of the Mage's tower - his favorite spot to be during the winter time. He hugged himself, trying to fight off the cold. He was too stubborn to go back inside, the others were eager to speak to him about that night’s dinner - except Dorian.

"May I join you?" Revix asked in his normal, steady tone. Ferron did not hear him climb the steps. He turned and gently nodded, inviting the company of his second eldest brother. Revix sat next to Ferron, crossing his legs and leaning slightly forward.

"Have you come to scold me, Revix? Tell me how risking an alliance for a lover is ridiculous?" Revix didn't answer. "Or have you come to silently listen to me rant and rave about my mistakes?" Ferron wouldn't move his eyes from the ground.

It was silent again for a good minute before Revix decided to speak, “Do you think it is?” He gazed off at the distant stars, admiring the view from the tower. It beautiful beyond words, and he had seen some breath taking views in his life time. The cold breeze added a sense of freedom that Revix secretly craved.

Ferron looked shocked, “What do you mean, do I think it is? Of course I do. Dorian means…” he halted, his eyes drifting. There really were no words to describe it, but he attempted to conjure some, “he means the world to me. He makes me actually want to work to save it…All of this, I never wanted it. I never wanted to leave, I was fine trailing in your shadows. I hated the constant teasing and feeling like nothing all the time, but it was worth it if it meant I could be safe and sound with my family. I never wanted to cause ripples…and here I am, saving all of Thedas. He takes off the edge, makes me feel less… _less_.” Ferron sighed, wondering if Revix even cared for what he thought.

The two never fought, never had any rifts between them. Revix was quiet in most aspects of his life, and when Irras and Wris would tease Ferron, Revix would stay quiet, silently glaring at his siblings for picking on their own. Being quiet is just as bad as being the offender. Revix would occasionally step in when Wris really cut into him, demanding that they stop before Ferron finally snaps. He never did, but the brothers didn’t want to be responsible for that day. Revix preferred neutrality. “Then you shouldn’t be beating yourself up about it, Ferron. If you believe it is the right choice, there is no need to defend your actions.” He spoke calmly, his green eyes trailing towards his baby brother.

He looked conflicted for a few moments before he decided to speak again, “I’m sorry, Ferron. It was wrong of me to let them treat you as such growing up. I understand if you can never forgive me, what we put you through was horrible.” His eyes did not waver from Ferron, he seemed sincere in his confession. A silence hung over them, but it was broken when Revix’s head snapped towards the top of the stairs.

“Ferron? Are you- oh, I’m sorry, I can come back-,”

“No, I was just leaving.” Revix smiled gently at Dorian as he stood easily. Ferron still said nothing. The truth, he had forgiven his brothers long ago, especially Revix, who did more for Ferron than he gave himself credit for. Revix met Dorian at the top of the stairs, he placed his hand on Dorian’s upper arm, stopping the Mage. “I apologize on the behalf of Irras. You do not deserve to be treated as such, especially by those who are guests in your home. If it means anything, I think you are a fine young man, worthy of my brother. I appreciate all you have done for him.” He looked down for a brief second before he dropped his hand and spoke again, “We rarely showed him kindness, much less love. It brings me joy to see he can find both in you, and trust that you will not turn on him as we- _I_ did.” With that, Revix was off.

Dorian took in his words, not being allowed time to respond. The words did shake his core, Ferron had been through much more than he ever let on. He spotted Ferron in the center of the tower, hugging himself and shivering slightly. He seemed so lonely, but Dorian knew he was content with being alone. The Mage was happy he brought some blankets, however. Ferron enjoyed the cold but he didn’t like the cold; snuggling to get warm, yes, but sometimes it wasn’t worth the frostbite.

“He’s right, you know?” Ferron laughed gently as Dorian sat next to him. He rolled out the blanket and adjusted it so he could easily wrap it around the two of them. He took another blanket and pulled it on the front of them so they were covered on both ends from any stray wind. Dorian looked at him questioningly, so Ferron continued, “The flirting and what not between us was fun. I enjoyed having some…source of affection. I was terrified, however, when I began to _feel_ things for you. I knew that at one point our relationship was going to develop past makeout sessions and move to a more physical aspect. It scared me half to death, simply because I had never… _done it_ before and I didn’t want to fall into using sex as another tool to fill my need for love…but after it happened…I _knew_ that with you, I didn’t need to fight for those things because you would give them unconditionally. It was the greatest feeling in the world.”

Dorian stared at him, somewhat shocked. He knew that Ferron was a virgin when they started, but he didn’t know that all this was rolling around in his head. Hell, he didn’t realize how emotionally aware Ferron had become since they first met. “Ferron I-,”

“Revix wasn’t all that bad,” Ferron continued, he was in a mood, and he needed to talk right now. “When I first showed signs of magic, we were hunting. I was…twelve - a late bloomer – and he was sixteen. He was teaching me how to throw knives, something that he is really good at. It was my turn to throw, so I held it just like he taught me. Revix had moved us to a deeper, secluded part of the forest – he was afraid I would hit someone – and it was a good thing he did too. I reared back, threw that knife, and it split the tree in half. I had unknowingly attached a rather powerful, uncontrolled lightning spell when I threw the knife. It conducted with the metal, and scorched the center of the tree. The tree was rather old, and that was the final blow it needed to just topple right over.

“I started crying, knowing the dangers of Magic from the Keeper and her loud-mouthed Second, I was scared out of my wits. All of my brothers, as you know, are warriors or hunters. My father, from what Irras told me, was a proud warrior. My mother was a stunning rogue, one of the best hunters in our clan. I became hysteric within a matter of seconds. I’m pretty sure I began to conjure up a storm around the immediate area, because Revix sounded terrified when he started to attempt to calm me down. I also felt rain. It was pretty awesome, now that I think about it.

“Anyways, he finally got me back down to a quiet sob and he explained that he would keep it a secret from the others. He said the only person he would tell was mother, so she could figure out what to do with me before the clan did. He held my hand all the way back to where the clan was, telling me stories about the Lore of the humans and dwarves, talking about all the heros that changed the world for the better. When he asked me if I wanted to be a hero, I shook my head furiously, telling him that it sounded like too much work. I guess some things never change.” He laughed gently, leaning into Dorian as his fingers pulled little loose strings of fabric from the edge of the blanket.

Dorian watched him, listening to the story with interest. Despite all his flaws, Dorian loved Ferron with all his heart. He loved his vulnerabilities, his charming wit, how chaotically controlled he was about his coping skills and everything else. A normal person would be crushed under all of his vices, all those irrational fears that plague him on a daily basis, but Ferron managed not only to survive, but thrive. Dorian admired that. He admired that immensely. Most of all, he loved how non-judgmental Ferron was, and how easily he accepted those around him. Dorian had never felt so welcomed, so loved, so trusted, in his entire life.

Ferron sighed next to him, knowing that this night’s dinner was probably still hurting Dorian. He took a deep breath, getting ready to discuss it, “About tonight, Dorian, are you-,”

“Marry me.”

 

_To be continued..._


	5. Looking Up, For Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! <3

“Uh- I –,” Ferron stammered, his mind screeching to a halt. His stomach had dropped, but his heart was fluttering rapidly in his chest. A jumbled mix of emotions welled within him, forming a giant bubble that threatened to burst wide open. Before he even knew it, Ferron was scrambling to his feet. The blankets snaked around his ankles, pulling him back to the stone.

“Ferron!” Dorian gasped as he stood to help him. He placed his hand on his shoulder, looking for a way to aid Ferron. The elf yanked the blankets from his legs before he brushed Dorian off, muttering something about an important meeting that needed his attention, even though he had nothing planned since it was the middle of the night.

Ferron was sprinting down the tower, his legs propelling him forward at a rapid pace. He cut across the gardens, hearing a pained cry of his name echoing along the area as he slipped into the door leading to the great hall. He heard the voices of his advisors, but he couldn’t stop himself from moving forward. He focused on his heart that was pounding in his ears. He felt numb, but maybe that was the adrenaline. He couldn’t stop running, and he didn’t know why he ran in the first place. When he found himself at the bottom of the rotunda, he paused long enough to look around. Spotting Solas, he strided over to him and spoke in a panted plea, “I need your help, Solas.”

Dorian was breathing hard when he entered the main hall. His eyes dashed frantically around the area. “Where did Ferron go?” He demanded as he approached the table where the advisors sat in a tight group. They had reports scattered around the table, attempting to make up for the loss of strength if Irras decided to revoke his Dalish alliances.

“What happened? Why does the Inquisitor look as if he’s seen a ghost?” Leliana questioned, her eyebrow raising. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him move so fast before. Well, unless there was a spider in the room.” She laughed lightly, straightening from her hunched over position at the head of the table.

“It’s the ‘where’ that I’m most concerned with. I’ll figure out the ‘why’ later.” Dorian calmed his tone, despite the panic that flooding his system. He should not have sprang such a thing on Ferron. They never talked about marriage, but Dorian knew that it was the only place their relationship was headed. _“How could I be so stupid!?”_ he growled in a sharp whisper, not meaning to let the comment slip past his lips.

“He went to Solas’ quarters,” Cullen replied, not wanting to invade in their affairs. Josie and Leliana knew it best not to comment on his outburst. They assumed that Dorian and Ferron had fought about the dinner. It was between the young couple, and Leliana knew she would eventually find out sooner than later, even if she didn’t really want to pry into their business.

“Please _Hahren_! You need to hide me!” Ferron practically begged, placing his hands together.

“ _Hamin, Da’len_ , slow down-,”

“ _No_ , Solas! I need to – to - . . . _ugh_ , if you see Dorian, tell him – tell him: yes.” Ferron turned away, ready to bolt for the nearest opening he saw, not realizing what he said.

“Yes? What do you mean, Inquisitor? Tell me what’s going on.” Solas questioned gently, placing his hand lightly on Ferron’s upper arm, stopping him in place. Ferron looked at him with wide eyes, his heart felt like it was going to burst.

Across the room, the door swung open. Dorian entered, halting dead in his tracks when he saw Ferron. He froze, like someone who was worried about scaring a frightened animal. There was silence in the room, along with an unspoken tension. Dorian began to speak slowly, “Amatus, there is no pressure to-,”

“ _Yes_ ,” Ferron gasped the word, a wave of pure happiness washed over him. A slight smile pulled on his lips as he took a step towards Dorian. Solas dropped his hand, his eyebrow raising in uncertainty. Ferron took another step towards him, “Yes,” he repeated, louder so Dorian couldn’t miss it this time. He saw the wariness in Dorian’s eyes fade away, replaced with a steadily growing joy. “Yes!” Ferron nearly screamed as he raced across the room, towards Dorian.

His hands cupped Dorian’s cheeks as he smacked into his body, the sheer force of his momentum almost knocked them over. Dorian stumbled backwards, his hand closed around the scaffolding next to the main door for support. He smiled wide, then dropped his eyes for a brief moment, “What about earlier-?”

Ferron was sprinkling loving kisses all over Dorian’s face, unable to control his excitement. “I’m sorry I ran, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he gasped against Dorian’s opened mouth before he connected their lips. His fingers pulled through Dorian’s hair, he couldn’t get enough of him at the moment.

“There are easier ways to reject me, Amatus.” Dorian chuckled against Ferron’s lips before he returned the tender, if somewhat heated, kiss. His arms wrapped tightly around Ferron’s waist, pulling their bodies tightly together.

Solas coughed gently behind them. He saw how intense their kiss was getting, and he really didn’t want to stick around for them to go further. He could have left, but he also wanted to finish his research before retiring for the night. “I’m assuming something big is happening?” He inquired, rather polity.

Ferron pulled his lips away, but he kept their foreheads pressed together. He smiled with elation, unable to control any of these happy emotions he felt. His heart beat rapidly in his chest, a red tint covered his cheeks. He was absolutely beside himself with unadulterated glee. “We are getting married!” he couldn’t contain the lightness of his vocal cords. Dorian returned the smile, just as wide, as he kissed his nose. He was relieved that this turned out . . . well, better than he expected it to, really.

Next to them, the door pushed open and Josie, Varric, Leliana, Cullen, Cassandra and Sera stumbled through. There was a quick burst of accusations before all of them straightened out. They wore gleaming smiles on their faces, but Josie’s was the widest. “Did I hear something about a wedding?!” She beamed at them. Ferron and Dorian simply laughed along with the rest of their companions.

Ferron seemed happy enough, but there was something gnawing at the pit of Dorian’s stomach. He knew that Ferron would want to get married immediately, a small ceremony with his companions and whoever in the Inquisition wished to attend, and Dorian wasn’t complaining about that. With his exquisite taste, Josephine’s ability to get her hands on things in short notice, and Vivienne’s Orlesian connections, the wedding was sure to go smoothly. It was Ferron’s family that Dorian was worried about, and he was worried about how their opinions would affect Ferron. Dorian kept his smile, but he knew that this was not the end of their troubles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Irras let this slide? Can Josephine plan everything without clashing with Vivenne and Dorian? Will Wris finally learn to put aside his follower attitude? Most importantly, will Bull ever get his red-headed rogue? All questions that will be answered in the next addition. 
> 
> The next chapter may take a little longer for me to post, simply because the next couple days are going to be very busy and I already know the next addition will be lengthier. It will most likely happen over a span of four days, showing some of the funnier and more embarrassing parts of planning a wedding and how that mixes with being the Inquisitor. Get ready for fluff and humor! 
> 
> Translations:  
> Hahren - Elder  
> Hamin - Relax  
> Da'len - Little One/Child


	6. Let's Start Planning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the new addition! It's day 1 of wedding planning. I hope you enjoy! <3
> 
> NOTE: I appreciate all your guy's love and support for this miniseries! I didn't think it would take off like this! :D You keep me inspired to write more! <3

“Amatus . . . Ferron . . . _Inquisitor_!”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. What did you ask?”

Dorian shook his head as he smiled at Ferron. His fingers squeezed against Ferron’s, reassuring him that it was alright. Josephine’s low sigh of frustration went unnoticed to Ferron. He looked tired, dark circles were under his eyes and his posture was low. Dorian was wide awake, excited, and as handsome as ever. Ferron was leaning against Dorian, resting almost all his weight on the mage. It was obvious that Ferron’s loss of sleep was of his own doing.

“Alright, I’ll go over them once more; make sure to listen this time Inquisitor,” she waited until Ferron was looking at her, “Do you want red wine or white, and what brand? I also need the main piece of the meal. Ram meat or Druffalo? In order to get them here in time, I need to send the requests to Orlais as early as possible.” She readied her quill, quickly dipping it into the ink bottle and aiming it above the partchment.

“I don’t drink, Josephine. Wine is more Dorian’s area of expertise. I prefer Ram meat, but I don’t really care.” Ferron responded apologetically, shrugging his shoulders as he rubbed his temple on Dorian’s shoulder. Dorian kissed his forehead gently, understanding the indecisiveness in Ferron. He didn’t want to be responsible for any mistakes in the choices.

Josephine’s annoyance grew, her fingers dug into the wood of her board. “Inquisitor, I need a decision.”

“Please order the finest bottles of Agreggio Pavali Oralis has. It’s a Tevinter wine, but I’ve seen it on the shelves there before. As far as food, you haven’t let us down yet: surprise us. I’m sure everything will be lovely, my dear.” Dorian smiled calmly at Josephine, who began to scribble furiously on the paper. “Do you agree Ferron – Ferron?” He turned, his brows furrowing when he saw nothing but empty space. Ferron had slipped away. Dorian sighed, spotting Ferron at the other end of the hall.

He sauntered along, halting only once before heading into the rotunda. Varric congratulated him, reminding Ferron that he was certified to marry them. The elf thanked him before reminding him that the decision was not his to make, but Josephine’s. “Ferron?” Dorian called, causing Ferron to turn. He smiled wide at his fiancé as he slipped into the rotunda.

Dorian assumed he was going to find a place to sleep, specifically the area Dorian could usually be found. That, or Ferron knew he wasn’t being much help. Planning wasn’t his strong suit. Dorian focused on his attention on Josephine, who continued to ask him questions about center pieces and what not. From the corner of his eye, he saw Sera race across the doors at the end of the hall, Nairod barking and following her at full speed, his short little legs working twice as hard to keep up.

They had five days to get everything ready. Ferron wanted his brothers to attend, and the longer they put it off, the more Ferron could stress about it. He enjoyed being with Dorian, sticking with him and actually being part of the planning. However, the more choices that were thrown at him, the more he realized he was out of his depth.

Ferron was extremely tired, his insomnia refused to let him sleep. Dorian tried everything last night. At around two, four hours before they went to bed, Ferron woke up his lover with an ear nibble. The mage was grouchy, but he listened to Ferron’s plea for aid in sleeping. Dorian, being the great fiancé he is, groggily got up from bed and prepared a hot bath for Ferron. While Ferron took the bath, Dorian tried talking to him, but his speech was slurred from sleep and about two sentences in, he fell back asleep in his sitting position against the bed frame.

When Ferron was done, to no avail at his sleeping issue, he straddled Dorian’s hips and kissed his neck until he was awake. Dorian picked him up and crawled back into bed, tucking him in. He gave Ferron a lazy back rub before Ferron insisted Dorian go back to sleep. So he reluctantly did, leaving Ferron in the nightmarish cycle of skimming the surface of sleep before snapping back awake.

He found himself in Dorian’s study area, a place that was very familiar to him at this point. The elf curled up in Dorian’s chair, taking in his scent and allowing it to surround and caress his senses. He was about to drift away when something on the top of the bookshelf caught his eye. It was a dark oak box with a red tint and a glossy finish. It was very simple but undeniably elegant.

Then it hit him, and he was wide awake. Ferron scrambled to his feet, smiling widely. It was their wedding rings. Dorian had mentioned sometime last night in a tired confession that he had been planning on proposing for a while, but never could find the right moment to do so. He also admitted that yesterday was probably not the perfect time, but it felt like the right time for him. Whatever had happened yesterday between Ferron and his brothers reinforced their love for each other. This morning, Ferron agreed that he would wait to see the rings until the ceremony. He was ready to keep that promise . . . up until he saw that beautiful box.

He peeked his head around both corners, making sure no one was headed his way – especially Dorian. Ferron went back to the bookshelf, standing on his tiptoes in order to actually reach the top. He stretched as far as he could. His fingers brushed along the very front of the box, unintentionally pushing it father out of reach. He moved closer to the shelf, his other hand grabbed onto the shelf to steady himself.

It was underneath his fingertips when the bookshelf suddenly started falling towards him. He was so focused on his target that he had forgotten not to put all his weight in his abdomen. With a panicked yelp, he leaped off the shelf, pushing it back into the wall as he went. The box slid backwards, father away from his grasp – but he didn’t care anymore. Dorian would be furious if he died after they started making plans for the wedding.

“What ever are you doing? Darling, don’t ruin the surprise. It will be absolutely lovely, I promise.” Vivienne spoke kindly. She was about to take her leave before she halted, hesitated, then turned back towards Ferron – who had created even a greater distance between himself and the bookshelf. “What you pulled at dinner was risky, as what you are doing now with Dorian. I hope you are ready to live with the consequences, darling. On the other hand, congratulations. Weddings are absolutely _lovely_ for morale.” Then she strode off, heading towards the main hall to help plan.

The minute she was out of sight, he sprinted off in the opposite direction, heading for the tavern. Being told not to do something just made him want it more. He felt like a child, but he sort of enjoyed it. Bull was tall enough to reach the box, and Ferron could easily beg him to get the box. When he entered the tavern, he didn’t see Bull anywhere. Krem spoke up from the corner, “The Chief had _company_ last night. He went up to the room just off the top floor.” Ferron nodded a quick thanks before taking two steps at a time.

He knocked on the door furiously, anxious to get back to Dorian’s study. Adrenaline was pumping through his system as his heart beat rapidly in his chest. He felt like he was doing something bad, and he loved it. There was shuffling inside, following by Bull’s joyous laughter. The door opened just enough for the nude upper body of a man could be seen.

“Revix?!”

Bull boomed another laugh inside the room. Revix blinked slowly before scratching his head, further ruffling his bed head. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders, speaking plainly, “I guess we all have secrets – what did you need little brother?

Ferron blinked, awe-struck by this rather surprising revelation. He was determined to keep his cool, holding onto his reputation of not being judgmental. “Uh, well – Dorian and I are – really? You and Bull-? I didn’t know you were-?” He broke, his curiosity surpassing the privacy of his brother’s _affairs_.

Revix leaned against the door, “To be honest, I’ve always been curious about the Qunari. We saw many when we passed through Kirkwall.” He paused, looking back into the room with a slight smirk on his lips, “I admit, I didn’t think this would happen; but I’m hardly complaining.”

Ferron’s jaw was agape with surprise. Revix looked tired, but he had a sort of glow about him. Ferron didn’t even know Revix liked men – or had any sexual preference for them. He processed this information slowly, staying silent for a couple seconds before finally shaking it off. He didn’t really have an opinion on it, Revix knew what he was doing. “Well, Dorian said this kind of thing usually happens at weddings.”

There was a massive thud in the room that caught both of the male’s attention. A giant, grey hand curled around the crack in the door, prying it open even further. Revix shifted, making sure to keep himself hidden behind it. He looked at Ferron with astonishment, a smile pulling at his lips from the news.

“A wedding? Who’s getting married?!” Bull beamed, not attempting to hide anything.

“Well,” Ferron almost blushed, “Dorian and I-!”

Bull shoved through the door, narrowly avoiding running over Revix. He wrapped his arms around Ferron and lifted him from the ground, pulling him into a crushing bear hug. “Congratulations Boss!”

The wind was knocked out of his lungs at the sudden force, but he endured it with ease. “Thanks Bull-,” he choked out. There was a smile on his face, his previous objective forgotten. Bull continued to hug him – and Ferron never let his eyes stray downwind.

 

_To be continued..._


	7. Get Your Animal Out Of My Fabrics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for taking so long to post this! This takes place on the third day (out of five) of planing. Thanks for reading! <3

Ferron’s hand ran over the large blocks of silk fabric. It was smooth but it had a strength to it that could hold up to rips and tears. Then his hand slid over a softer, shiny fabric that felt thin despite the thicker fibers. The next block was white in color and it felt soft and familiar. It was a simple fabric and obviously abundant since the block was thicker than the rest. He knew it was cotton.

Ferron didn’t really know what these fabrics were for, whether it was for outfits or table cloths. Ferron wanted to wear simple formal attire, the same outfit he wore to the Winter Palace, but he knew Dorian would want to go all out, and Josephine would encourage him. As he thought about the fabrics, he felt a light pressure on his calf. A low whine followed by a short yip captured his attention. Ferron smiled as he lowered himself to sit on the ground. The pup rolled onto it’s back, exposing it’s belly to Ferron. His pink tongue hung lazily from his parted jaws.

“Your pup is always where you least expect him,” Dorian smiled as he entered the antechamber. He joined Ferron on the ground without hesitation, not minding if someone perceived the act as childish. His hand went to Nairod’s belly. The Fennec grabbed Dorian’s hand with it’s paws. It gently chewed on his fingers, growling playfully as his feet kicked at Dorian’s wrist.

“ _Our_ pup, Dorian. It’s like having a son that stays four years old forever. Very entertaining with half the work.” Ferron smiled at Dorian before he watched Nairod wriggle around under Dorian’s hand. The pup gave the most menacing growl he could, but it came out as a high pitched gurgle that made Ferron chuckle.

“Well, I wish our _son_ would stop leaving my shoes in the tavern. Sera always puts creatures in them. I have to check them _twice_ before putting them on.” Dorian feigned anger as he formed a claw with his hand and pressed it lightly on the pup’s neck. Nairod growled and attempted to bite his hand before he squirmed out from under the fake claw. The pup stuck it’s tail in the air, it was wagging furiously.

Ferron laughed lightly, “He just wants your attention, it seems.” The pup barked in agreement before he spun rapidly around himself. He barked again as he took up a playful pose. When Dorian reached for him, Nairod bolted out the open door, almost tripping Josephine as she entered.

“Make sure that _animal_ keeps it’s teeth away from the fabric. We need all of it. Outfitting the entire Inquisition is more difficult than you might think.” Josephine was speaking quickly, stress in her voice. She bustled around the room, gathering materials for Maker knows what.

“Apparently he is our son, Josephine.” Dorian said, teasing Ferron. He stood to his feet, helping Ferron up as he went. “As for outfitting the _entire_ Inquisition, Ferron and I wished to have a small, more intimate ceremony.”

“What do you mean, Dorian? This is a momentous occasion, some happiness in this darkness is exactly what the people need.” Vivienne entered the antechamber, giving her two cents towards this new bump in the road. “I say invite everyone who wishes to go.”

Dorian sighed, glancing back at Ferron who stood awkwardly next to him. “This is _our_ wedding, is it not? I personally don’t want the entirety of Thedas to know that the Inquisitor, an elf, is marrying a Tevinter, those well known for _enslaving_ elves. I don’t want any sort of scandal around this, we are in enough shit as it is. I don’t want anymore -,” Dorian paused suddenly when Ferron slipped his hand into his, entwining their fingers.

He took a deep breath before continuing, “I appreciate your resolve-,” he started again but was quickly interrupted by Josephine.

“I already made preparations for a tailor to create outfits for most of the soldiers and all of your inner circle. I, in no way, can change that order without completely canceling payment! It will take me three days at least to sort everything out!” Josephine was panicking, they had two days to get everything wrapped up.

Vivinne was going to put in her input when the door to the antechamber opened. It was Wris, Ferron’s third oldest brother. He was about to speak when a joyful yell echoed around the main hall. It sounded like Sera. Nairod darted into the room with a happy yip. The pup leaped on Josephine’s desk, stepping on the fabrics.

Sera peeked her head in the door, saw what the pup was doing, and took off. “Don’t let him rip them!” Josephine yelled as she rushed towards the pup. Nairod thought it was a game. His nails dugs at the fabrics, shredding them below his paws. When he saw Josephine rushing towards him, he snatched a loose piece of silk between his teeth with a low growl. “Don’t you do it,” she threatened as she halted in front of the desk.

“Don’t move Josephine, he’ll dart.” Dorian warned in a low whisper as he approached the desk cautiously, he knew the pup wouldn’t listen to anyone when he was like this. This was playtime for Nairod, and there was no stopping it. Dorian was going to reach for him, hoping that Nairod would recognize his owner and calm down.

“No don’t-!” Ferron shouted behind his shoulder. Dorian’s hand pushed against the pup’s chest but he didn’t get close enough to actually grab him. Nairod yipped around the fabric before he leaped from the desk, dragging the fabric with him. The silk streamed behind him, the rays coming in from the window reflected against the thin stream that cascaded through the air.

Ferron whipped to his knees, diving towards his ‘son’ with a low growl. “Nairod, drop it!” He attempted, but the Fennec just wagged his tail and dashed around the room, dodging all the hands that reached for him. He was speeding towards the door, aiming to run around Wris.

Nairod stepped around him, but Wris quickly grabbed a hold of the fabric, forcing Nairod to be yanked from his momentum. He growled and whipped around, tugging on the fabric as he inched backwards. Wris pulled towards him, engaging the pup in a game of tug-of-war. He raised a challenging eyebrow as the pup furiously shook his head. The Fennec went to adjust his grip, but before his teeth could clamp back down on the silk, Wris pulled sharply on the stream, yanking it away from his jaws.

The Fennec yipped before spinning and racing back down the main hall. Wris shook his head as he chuckled gently, he began to wrap up the saliva slicked fabric around his arm. “You know – I have a bit of experience in the area of tailoring. I wouldn’t mind outfitting a small portion of the Inquisition – if you are still looking for someone to do so.”

Ferron looked at him with disbelief. How many times will his brother’s surprise him this week? He got back on his feet as Dorian joined his side. Josephine was picking up fabrics, attempting to salvage whatever she could. “If you are up for it, Wris, why not?” Ferron smiled gently at his brother, happy that he was attempting to help.

_To be continued..._


	8. Final Touches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day five, the last day before the wedding. Thanks for reading! All feedback is appreciated! :D

" _Ow!_ You're fixing up a suit, not fighting poachers." Dorian snapped lightly as he jerked his leg away from Wris. The elf sighed as he pulled the lengthy fabric back towards his body. They had been at this for a few hours, and Dorian was as antsy as ever. Tomorrow was their wedding, at midday. Their inner circle and a few guests would be allowed in the wedding. They would have a sketch artist there in order to show others pictures of the wedding and how everything turned out. Ferron jokingly offered to do it, but Josephine, in a stressful state, informed him that he had to be _in_ the wedding.

Wris slid another pin in the crease of his pants, trimming them up. He spoke around four pins that rested against his lips, "Hold still, Dorian. You and Cullen have about the same measurements. He's a few inches taller than you, however, so I have to adjust. You're squirming doesn't help either." He moved to the other leg and began working.

Dorian tried his best to stay still. This was the day before his wedding, and he had been denied the right to see his fiancé. It was a rather agitating encounter that left him sour for the rest of the morning. He had approached the Inquisitor's bedroom, wishing to check on Ferron. He was feeling nervous himself, and he couldn't even imagine how Ferron was feeling. Dorian had been attentive the last couple nights, refusing to fall asleep until Ferron's breathing slowed to a steady snore.

Blackwall blocked his path, guarding the door as if the King himself was inside. Dorian wasn't in the mood to deal with distractions - Ferron was the only person on his mind. "Please move aside, Black- Rainier? What do I call you now?" He was suddenly distracted, so maybe Ferron wasn't all that was on his mind. He blamed his nervous energy.

He sighed lightly, "Blackwall works just as well. The Inquisitor suggest we use it as a title, much like his. It's something to aspire to, for now." He crossed his arms over his chest as he slightly raised an eyebrow.

Dorian nodded slowly, "Ah, well, may I see Mr. Lavellan?" He asked formally before the thought of changing last names came to mind. Would Ferron take his name? Or would he take Ferron's? Maybe they would combine it? He shook off the thought for now - there was so much to talk about in so little time. All of these wedding details were being picked for them, and they had little time to discuss it. Dorian wanted to make Ferron's intimate ceremony become reality - but Ferron wanted Dorian's _'wedding extravaganza_ ' wish to come true. Ferron could overrule them all and demand that Dorian's deepest desires be met, but Dorian was as stubborn as ever with making Ferron comfortable.

"No." Dorian heard Blackwall say amidst the pool of chaotic thoughts that rippled through his brain. He blinked twice, silent, contemplating whether he heard correctly.

"I'm sorry? What do you mean _no_?" He questioned with slight resentment, why would they deny him entrance? Was Ferron upset with him for some reason? Was Ferron in trouble? Some grave injury that he wanted covered up to not ruin this day before the main event? Worry gripped him as he tried to remain calm.

Blackwall sighed and shifted, treading carefully but holding his ground, "Ferron is in there with Wris, getting fitted I think, and Cassandra has ordered me to let everyone through _but_ you. I don't take orders from her, but she said the Inquisitor agreed. Something about 'bad luck' I believe. Nothing personal."

Dorian grumbled a few curses before he cut his losses and went to busy himself with other things - like walking Nairod. He was trying to keep his mind off of Ferron, but his one sided conversation with the lively pup quickly turned to his soon to be husband. They were strolling through the refugee camp at the foot of Skyhold. Nairod was prancing around in the snow, eating it, burying himself in it, digging in it, and he even peed in it twice. Dorian just kicked over the yellow spot and prayed no one dug below the surface.

"I'm not really _that_ worried, pup. Josephine and Vivienne know what they are doing, and I have complete faith -," he sighed and looked down at the Fennec who rolled on his back by Dorian's feet, "Who am I kidding? I'm a nervous wreck. This wasn't supposed to happen, you know. My father would absolutely shit himself. I can only imagine the conversation we would have!"

Nairod pushed back to his feet and sat down at the front of Dorian's shoes. He tilted his head and let out a low whine as one of his ears shifted backwards. "Dear old dad; I am getting married - no not to a blood-line-rich-soon-to-be-Magister-princess - but a _man_ who is the leader of the _Inquisition_ \- a group that all Tevinters hate on principle. I bet you didn't think I could lower the bar of your standards, but I like surprises as much as the next man! How about you!?" The Fennec blinked and Dorian sighed, "He'd probably die of shock on the spot." His voice dropped, "Although - It would be _nice_ to have his approval . . . or his blessing."

He knelt down by the pup and scratched his head. The Fennec panted happily before yipping and licking Dorian's fingers with his soft pink tongue. He hadn't noticed Irras until the Fennec's head cocked over his shoulder and a surprised growl gurgled in his throat. "Issues with your father?" Irras spoke casually, as if they were acquaintances - or even friends.

Dorian stood slowly, "Not anything I can't handle, what about yourself? You seemed pretty adamant about avenging your father's memory." Dorian crossed his arms over his chest. His words were sharp and unfriendly, nothing that Irras didn't deserve.

Irras sighed gently as his shoulders slumped slightly, "My father was a good man. My mother and I, sadly, were the only ones to actually know him. He was murder- _died_ when I was six, only a couple of days after Ferron was born . . . or at least that was when we received news. My mother was devastated, but she was determined to keep us from seeing her in such a way. She had to _'stay strong for her boys_ '. She told Ferron that one day when he asked why he hasn't ever seen her cry. My father was a kind, strong, proud warrior that cared about everything and everyone. He showed mercy to those who never deserved it otherwise. My mother never had a mean bone in her body, never taught us to hate those responsible . . . yet somehow - here I am."

He paused and looked downwards before speaking with caution, "I aspired to be him, but Ferron managed it before I ever could . . . If Ferron was to end up with someone, I'm happy it's a person such as you . . ." he hesitated, and his words seemed transparent, "If you would like, I could give you my blessing . . ."

"No offense but I think little of your approval, or your blessing. I doubt it means much to Ferron either - which sadly would just be me lying to myself. Even after your whole display that certainly made you - and only you - into a giant ass, Ferron will still seek your approval. I do the same with my father. It will forever be a mystery as to why we value the opinions of those who hurt us the most."

"Dorian, about earlier-,"

"I do not want your apology, because I have already forgave and forgotten - what's done is done. Ferron is wounded by it, and I feel for him, but he will recover as he always does. He's stronger than you think."

"It was never my intention to hurt him - or you." Irras tried to defend, he knew Dorian was right, but he wasn't going to go down without a fight - even if it was a weak one.

"Spare me the explanation. We all have demons that have yet to be put to rest." He began to walk away, tapping his side gently to signal Nairod to follow. He was a few feet from him when he stopped and turned back towards Irras, "All those things you said about how I _must_ treat Ferron because I am from Tevinter - they couldn't be further from the truth. I _have_ treated Ferron like a King since we first started dating and he has done the same for me. We do not look at what is skin deep. We see what is in our hearts and our souls. I love your brother - more than I've ever thought possible. If you have any _ounce_ of decency in you, your apology should be going to the one who deserves it the most."

One wine glass and a couple hours later and here he was - being stabbed by his future brother-in-law. Wris straightened out the hem and stuck another needle in before he leaned back to examine his work. He nodded in approval and stood with a smile, "All finished. Just hang it up over there, get dressed, and the frighteningly attractive red head wants to see you in the antechamber." Wris moved for the door, but he stopped and turned towards Dorian - who had already began to unbutton his suit. "Thank you, Dorian; for making Ferron happy. Creators know he deserves it more than the rest of us." He didn't allow Dorian to respond. He slipped out the door and shut it tightly behind him, exhaling a shaky breath when he was in the clear.

Dorian smiled gently, Wris seemed a decent man - if only he could get out from Irras' shadow. Within a few minutes, he was back in his normal clothes. After a long day all he wanted to do was curl up with Ferron under the warm blankets. He missed his amatus. Sadly, there was still work to be done. Dorian exited the room and made his way to the main hall. Nobles still swarmed the area, some congratulated him and some were nosey about the ceremony and other details, a small hand full just turned up their noses at him and went to complaining about daily life.

"You summoned me?" Dorian asked casually as he strolled into the antechamber. The advisors were surrounding Josephine's desk, lightly bickering among themselves and jabbing their fingers into a piece of paper. Josephine shooed all of their fingers away from the paper with her hands. Cullen threw his arms up in the air and turned away, like a child who was mad at their parents. He crossed his arms over his chest. Leliana sighed loudly and shook her head. "Something wrong?"

Josephine looked up with agitation in her eyes. "We seem to have a sort of issue with the wedding - something that has come to our attention just recently, in fact." Her tone was almost grave, and that frightened Dorian. He raised his eyebrow and his shoulders tensed.

"What is it?" He asked warily as he advanced towards them. He had no idea what it could have been, but with one day away he wanted everything to go as smoothly as possible - and they seemed to be until now. Josephine took a deep breath and grabbed the paper from her desk. She reached out to hand it to him, but the door to the antechamber swung open. An Orlesian elf stepped through, dressed in the Inquisition Scout Armor. She looked panicked.

"Ser Dorian," she bowed her head gently as she let out a shaky breath, "Monsieur Lavellan is missing. We have looked everywhere and have found nothing. He’s gone."

_To be continued…_


	9. Nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so . . . here you go. Kind of an emotionally hard chapter for me to write, and this wasn't even the first version of it. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! <3

"What do you mean 'he's gone'?!" Dorian snapped as his body tensed. "Where could he _possibly_ go?! Blackwall was on the door that whole time!" He was in the Scout's face at this point, panic and anger boiled in his system. He knew that this would happen, knew that he should have been there with and for Ferron.

Cullen placed a firm hand on his shoulder, reminding him to check himself. Dorian brushed it off, but he gave the Scout some space, knowing there was no use terrorizing her. She swallowed hard, trying to control the shaking that seeped into her vocal cords, "I - I apologize, ser. We went to check on him under Seeker Pentaghast's orders and when we got there - he wasn't in there. We checked everywhere, Monsieur. Blackwall never left his post, if I may, perhaps he used magic?"

"Thank you - dismissed." Leliana spoke behind Dorian and Cullen. Dorian shot a hard glare at her, unsure as to what her motivation was. The spymaster brushed past them, walking towards the door to the antechamber. Her hand closed around the handle, opening it before she looked back at Dorian. "Well - we better start looking, no?"

So they did. Dorian managed to round up the entire inner circle and even some Scouts that Ferron talked to frequently. They were instructed to avoid nobles and other guests - there was no need to start a panic. Dorian was frantic, searching high and low, double checking Ferron's favorite spots. He asked his brothers if they said anything to upset him, or maybe knew where he might have gone.

"Do you think the news about Juliet scared him?" Wris asked cautiously from his seat at the bar, behind Irras - who was standing smack in the middle of the Tavern.

"They were close, but from what I saw Ferron was happy for the news." Irras responded without looking at the younger man. He kept his eyes on Dorian.

Revix shook his head, "Maybe it has nothing to do with his old life." Revix added from behind Dorian. He was standing near Bull - a little _too_ close to him. Bull had his hand on the back of his thigh. 

“The little guy couldn't have gotten far. Truffles is still here and so is Nairod. You know as well as I that Nairod would follow Ferron - unless he left Skyhold, but he always takes Truffles. Did you try asking Morrigan? He could be right under our noses." Bull observed before he stood from his chair and silently offered his assistance to search Skyhold.

Revix followed him, quietly slipping his hand into Bull's. Irras watched them with slight disapproval in his raised brow. Dorian ran past them, too preoccupied to care about the development between them. He needed to get to Morrigan. 

"I know not where your Inquisitor is, Pavus." Morrigan sneered with a defensive, raised eyebrow. She crossed her arms over her chest.

Dorian clenched his jaw out of frustration. The longer they waited, the more danger Ferron could potentially be in. “Please Morrigan, I know you don't particularly like anyone but Ferron is a man who is easily overwhelmed. I need to get to him before he hurts himself or someone else." He was pleading with her.

She laughed, “Your _dear Inquisitor_ is not as fragile as you have come to think. Harmless, maybe, but not weak." Dorian glared at her, he already knew these things. Morrigan was silent for a second before she rested her weight on one of her legs, shifting out her left hip. "Very well, he did not ask for secrecy.’Twas him who came to me, asking if I could open the Eluvian."

Dorian looked shocked, "To the Fade? Ferron is afrai- he doesn't like the Fade, not the raw aspect of it."

"'Tis is why I did not send him there. He asked to go to the place _'with the odd shaped trees'_."

This was like pulling teeth, "Where would that be?" Dorian pressed with clear aggravation in his voice.

"The Crossroads." She paused before halting him in his steps, "He is no longer there, Pavus. The Inquisitor is right where he is supposed to be." She smirked, a cat playing with her food.

"Right where he is . . ." Then Dorian was running towards the Inquisitor's quarters - his quarters. He shoved through the door, ignoring Blackwall's questions. He slammed the last door behind him, making sure no one could follow. If Ferron truly was here, Dorian wanted him alone.

He heard a thud come from the back room, closest to the stairs. Dorian whipped around and walked towards it, "Ferron?" He asked cautiously, not wanting to frighten whoever it was. His hand closed around the knob, but he felt resistance, as if someone was holding it.

“Get out Dorian! You're not allowed to see me. Josie says it's bad luck and I don't need any more of that." His voice sounded dulled, as if he had a cold.

Dorian tried the handle again, “Ferron, I'm worried about you, just let me-”

“No, _Vhenan_ , please. Don't . . . don't make this harder." Ferron's voice cracked. He pressed his back against the door before he slid down the wood. He tucked his legs into his chest and pushed his head against the door. His eyes were puffy and red streaks stained his cheeks.

Dorian let go of the handle, a mix of shock and hurt was written on his face. He didn't understand what Ferron meant, but he was determined to figure it out. He pressed his ear against the door, "Make what harder, Amatus?"

“ _This_ ," he sighed and paused for a moment. “Why are you even marrying me? To prove a point to my brothers? I mean, there has to be some other explanation than just . . ." he trailed off, his stomach churned, he didn't want to say it.

“Than what?" Dorian pressed, upset at Ferron's accusation.

Ferron swallowed hard before his breath hitched with a sob that shook his body. He tried to keep it quiet, to not let Dorian know, but the mage heard it, and it just made him worry more. "That you just love me . . ."

“You don't think I love you?" Dorian asked in a low whisper, his own emotions over this were beginning to manifest. He too shifted so his back was against the door and he was sitting. His legs were crossed, and his head was turned so his ear was still against the door.

Ferron let out a shaky breath, "I . . . no one ever has before . . . so why should someone love me now . . . I'm a mess, Dorian . . . I'm _just_ a rejected elf who was at the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm no leader - I’m not even a decent mage. I have nothing to offer you, and my whole life has been trying to avoid any and all sort of contact with others because I was too afraid of not being enough." He sounded frustrated. There was a slight pause before his entire tone changed. "How could you _ever_ love me when . . . Dorian, I'm nothing." His voice was riddled with raw emotions. It yanked at his own being, and it broke Dorian's heart.

Dorian wanted to pull Ferron into his arms and prove how much he loves him, but Ferron wasn't budging behind his protective wall. "Amatus . . . please come out so I can see you . . ." he asked anyways, wanting to know if Ferron would oblige. He heard shuffling in the room before there was silence. “Ferron?" He whispered before a sharp exhale of breath pushed through the silence behind the door. “Don't cry. . ." Dorian's own voice shook slightly, there were tears welling in his eyes. It was painful to hear Ferron speak so lowly of himself.

Dorian let the silence hang between them. He could hear Ferron's sobbing behind the thin door. He didn't know what to say, but each gasp of breath cut into him like tiny razor blades. “Amatus, I love you." He started, making sure there wasn't room for doubt in his voice, “Every little flaw, quirk, and habit is a part of you that I love. I asked to marry you because I want to show you _how_ much I love you.”

Dorian shifted before he continued, “You are not a rejected elf - you are a sweet, stubborn, handsome and skittish ball of a mage that I couldn't adore more. Please come out so I can look you in the eye." There was silence before Ferron shuffled around in the room. He stood on his feet and opened the door. Dorian almost fell backwards, but when he saw Ferron, he quickly stood up.

Ferron fell into his arms, burying his red face in the curve of Dorian's neck. His body was shaking as he sobbed. Dorian held him tightly before he pulled back to look Ferron in his puffy, bright eyes. “I love you, for all that is _you_. Never forget that, Amatus.” He kissed Ferron's lips, tasting the salty tears that streaked down his lips.

“There is one more issue . . ." Ferron whispered, dropping his gaze as he played with the amulet that always hung around Dorian’s neck since Ferron managed to get it back.

“Oh? Is there _someone else_ you want to tell me about? You know how much I hate competition." Dorian teased happily as he kissed the left over tears on Ferron's cheeks.

Ferron chuckled lightly, but he looked somewhat nervous. “No one else, but Josephine received a letter from the Chantry . . . they have refused to acknowledge that our marriage is valid."

_To be continued..._


End file.
